


Temperamento Ardiente

by Loremaiden



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Bigotry & Prejudice, Community: watsons_woes, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 04:36:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2011155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loremaiden/pseuds/Loremaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspector Baynes jumps to conclusions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Temperamento Ardiente

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to JWP #23 (Eat Raw Meat And Dance His War-Dance) on Watson's Woes.
> 
> Eat Raw Meat And Dance His War-Dance: From the original ACD to modern-day adaptations, the treatment of non-white characters in Sherlock Holmes (examples including "The Sign of Four," "The Blind Banker") can be racially problematic if not downright racist. Here's your chance to "fix" such a portrayal, or to deal with the subject of race from any version of SH (Sally Donovan or Joan Watson might have an earful to tell you, or the two African-American protagonists of the comic-book series Watson and Holmes).

I was puzzled that Lady Corbett allowed Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson to further upset her household with their presence. It was not that I did not enjoy working with them again, but the case did not need more than one detective assigned to it. It was a simple theft, and all my findings pointed to Dora, her daughter's Cuban maid. Holmes had intimated to me that he thought otherwise, but like the Wisteria Lodge business, we decided to work on our own lines. It did not, however, stop his friend from trying to convince me to come around to their way of thinking.

“Inspector Baynes, it is my belief--”

I chuckled at the man. Watson is a qualified doctor, author and self-professed admirer of the fairer sex, but he is not the _detective_ of the pair.

“Doctor, with all due respect, I don't need three continents worth of experience to know about the fiery temper of Latin women. My strategy is simple. I will accuse Dora plainly; her tantrum will serve as her confession. I apologize that Gregson troubled you and Mr. Holmes to come all the way here for such a trifling matter.”

Watson's retort was quiet but with a slight edge to it. “Your strategy seems rather biased, to my mind.”

“Well, we will soon find out which one of us is in the right. Now, if you will excuse me.” I cheerfully parted company with the piqued doctor and made my way to my rendezvous.

I joined Miss Julia and Dora in the parlor. As they greeted me, the young lady in a polite tone and the maid in heavily-accented English, I noticed Miss Julia's complexion had turned slightly pale. No doubt she felt nervous with the stress of the theft and these strange detectives intruding upon her home. I decided to strike quickly with my plan. The sooner the little firebrand was confronted with her crime, the sooner the necklace would be recovered and the whole matter put to rest.

I turned my back to them and casually sauntered to the fireplace to hide my satisfied grin over a case easily solved. “Come now, my girl. You know why I called for you. Best to make a clean breast of it; it will go better with you. I know you stole the necklace.” I steeled my ears for the inevitable torrent of passionate and incoherent Spanish.

_“You horrid brute!”_

I wheeled around in shock to find not the maid clawing at me as I expected, but Miss Julia, pounding her small but surprisingly powerful fists on my chest and shrieking hysterically. As quickly as her furious assault started, it stopped, dwindling into broken sobs. She collapsed into the arms of Dora, who tenderly rocked her and stroked her hair to sooth her mistress.

At that moment, Holmes and Watson rushed into the room. Holmes was carrying Miss Julia's reticule, which I then grudgingly concluded from Holmes' satisfied expression must have held the necklace. Their deductions were, to my slight dismay, apparently correct; the young lady stole from her own mother. Watson made his way to Miss Julia and delicately extricated her from the pillar of patient calm that was her maid so he could treat her.

I silently retreated from the scene, as I was completely unwilling to hear the phrase “I tried to tell you” from the doctor's lips.


End file.
